Vulcans Don't Share
by StarTrekFanWriter
Summary: Pre-Movie: S/U established-currently stationed apart. Someone slips Spock a mickey and its up to Number One, Pike's first mate to come to her sci officers rescue. Wonder about Number One and Spock's relationship? They are an awful lot alike...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Spock/Number One/Pike or Nyota Uhura**

Special thanks to beta Notes from the Classroom

In this Fic Spock is stationed on the Farragut while Nyota is still at the Academy. They are an established couple. Pike is the Farragut's captain, and Number One is the first mate.

**Vulcans Don't Share**

"You will unhand me. Now." The familiar voice rose above the din of the ship's holiday party...it was oddly laced with venom.

Spock? Number One looked up from where she was nursing her second screwdriver just in time to see her favorite Vulcan science officer rip a hand out of the grasp of Nurse Chapel. For a moment Spock's arm hovered in the air as though he might strike her, then it fell to his side.

That wasn't good. That was also very, very weird. Spock didn't lose his cool--even when he was in a blown-out escape shuttle with Klingons literally crawling over the top of it.

"Spock," she called through the crowd, "why don't you come over here."

Spock...ambled? Yes, ambled was definitely the word for it as he came over to her, a mug of something in his hand. Huh.

Reaching her, he stood a little too close...his pupils looked too wide for the dim lighting in the lounge.

The two bar stools on either side of her were filled, so Number One slid off hers. "Let's go find a place to sit down," she said.

Lifting an eyebrow, Spock replied, "You should not exert yourself in your condition, Sir. I will pull up a chair. Please hold my drink."

Before she could respond, he thrust his mug into her hand and their fingertips touched briefly as he did. He tilted his head at the brief telepathic contact, picked up her emotions and said, "Do not be annoyed with me....You are still recovering from radiation exposure."

Number One restrained the urge to dump his drink over his head. Bastard. Still treating her like a china doll.

He was gone before she had a chance to even shoot him a cutting remark. With a huff she looked down at the mug she was holding in her hand. It was warm and there was a layer of what looked like cream on top...and it smelled strongly of cinnamon and vanilla and...uh oh.

She was about to taste it just to be certain when Spock came back with a stool. Sliding it next to hers he took his drink back and slugged it down with a loud "Ahhhh...." at the finish.

Slipping onto the stool, he rocked a bit and then grumbled, "This is not stable."

Number One stared down at the stool and suddenly realized why it was rocking. It had been bolted to the floor...He'd ripped a bolted stool out of the floor...this was so not good.

Looking up sharply Number One asked, "Lieutenant Commander, did you just drink a mug of hot chocolate?"

He blinked. "No, Sir. That would be irre...irre...irresponsible." He licked his lips. "In point of fact, I was drinking...drinking..._xocolatl_."

Shit. "That is Aztec for hot chocolate, Spock." Although the Mexican beverage was made with chilies and without cream. Some ass had slipped Spock a mickey thinking an inebriated Vulcan would be funny.

"Really? Fascinating." He blinked, and then his fists curled. Standing up, he looked around the room. "If I apprehend the person who gave the first one to me I will...I will..." His whole body swayed back and forth.

If he apprehended the person who given him that first drink he'd probably wind up court-martialed. Wait...how many had there been?

Her stomach sank. This was the guy who had saved her from Klingons, was at least partially responsible for saving the lives of 15,000 plus humans on Epsilon 1235, and he had been, well, taking good care of her the past few weeks as she recovered from her near deadly dose of radiation exposure -- along with Pike, of course. It wouldn't have been nearly as comfortable to be alone with Pike...there were already so many rumors.

Taking a deep breath, Number One slung one of his arms over her shoulder. "Okay, big guy. We're taking you back to your quarters."

"That sounds entirely logical, Sir," Spock said.

Maneuvering him around, she gritted her teeth and guided him to the door. As they passed Chapel, Spock let out a low growl and Christine shot Number One a villainous glance. Number One did her best not to roll her eyes.

"She was...trying to...seduce me..." Spock said as they moved into the hall outside the lounge. "I wanted to throw her across the room." He shook his head. "And not in an affectionate manner."

Number One felt herself go slightly cold. That was more than she wanted to know about Vulcan affectionate behaviors.

Suddenly Spock stood up straight and stopped, drawing her tight against his side with the motion and nearly knocking the wind out of her.

"I warn you," he said, his face suddenly way too close to hers...their lips almost touching. "If this is an attempt at seduction, it will not be successful."

"I'm not attempting to seduce you, Spock." In annoyance she grabbed his hand to let his touch telepathy do the talking. "See?"

His eyes caught hers for a moment, then they darted forward. He blinked. "Indeed."

They began awkwardly hobbling down the hall again...and Spock began to talk...and talk...and talk. Number One sighed.

"Itisnot that I donot find you att...att..attra..aesthetically pleasing," her science officer said. "Your features are symmetrical. Your figure is healthy...and I greatly appreciate your chess playing skill as well as your dedication...dedication...to duty."

"That's nice, Spock," she replied keeping her head facing forward. "I always appreciated that you've never hit on me." She hoped he'd take the hint.

"You are a very attractive female and a credit to the human race," he blurted out. "But...I am bonded...for all intents and purposes...anyway. Soooooo....I will not be seduced."

"Good to know." She panted, his weight beginning to wear on her. She really hadn't recovered from the radiation exposure and he was _heavy_. And his heat...It was normal for him, she knew from their sparring matches, and from him carrying her back to bed while she'd been recuperating...still, she'd never had to bear it this long.

Just to be on the safe side she added, "I'm also your commanding officer."

"There is that as well," said her Vulcan friend.

A turbo lift magically opened in front of them and Number One dragged them forward. "Could ya' help me out here and support just a little more of your own weight?" she grumbled between heaving breaths.

"You are right. This is highly...highly...inappropriate," Spock said. "You are still ill. It is I who should be supporting you." Dropping his arm from over her shoulder as she turned them around, he tried to support her from beneath her elbow, but as soon as the turbolift moved he promptly fell to the floor.

Breathing hard, Number One left him there until the lift came to rest at the officers' deck. Then she grabbed a hand and pulled. "Spock," she panted between tugs, "how many hot chocolates –"

"_Xocolatls."_

"How many mugs of xocolatl did you drink?"

Stumbling to his feet, the Vulcan said, "One...or two...or three...or four...help me get...out this door." Raising an eyebrow, he said, "Iam a poet...and you didnot know it. Hmmmm....Iam almost saying contractions....fascinating..."

Settling into her place as a human crutch beneath his arm -- which was really too hot -- Number One decided she didn't share his sense of wonder.

She managed to lug him to his door with only one break, and after three attempts Spock finally entered his key code. Breathing a sigh of relief as the door whooshed open, Number One waited for Spock to move off her shoulders and enter his quarters...but he just stood at the door swaying.

Taking a deep breath, she hauled him directly forwards to the foot of his bed. There was no baseboard; she intended to let him topple. Their knees were only a foot from the mattress when Spock abruptly removed his arm from her shoulder, turned his back to the bed and said very sternly, "I warn you, seduction will not be success--success--success--"

Rolling her eyes as he swayed in front of her, Number One said, "I know. I got that. We're all good--"

And then he fell towards her.

**A/N:**

If you were entertained, please review! It's the only way Fan Fiction authors and there extremely overworked beta's get paid.

P.S. How Number One got sick is in the Vulcan, as is the adventure with Spock saving colonists, and Klingons crawling over blown out shuttles. Spock taking care of Number One is in the sci-fi romance/comedy "Reunion" (S/U Romance, not Spock/Number One Romance)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Spock or Number One**

Special thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom.

**Vulcans Don't Share : Chapter 2**

Number One put one leg back and braced herself just in time not to fall over when she became tangled up in his falling mass of torso and limbs. As soon as their bodies collided, Spock seemed to come to a little bit; he straightened but wrapped his arms around her as though for dear life...

At that moment Number One had a very ungracious thought. Please don't puke on me. Please don't puke on me. She really didn't want to know if Vulcans puked...or what Vulcan puke could possibly look like. Her stomach was still so weak from her bout of radiation sickness...

Would Spock's puke be green?

It was too much. "Lieutenant Commander, at attention!"

"Sir!" Snapping straight, Spock brought his arms to his side.

Still able to follow orders, even when wasted. Fascinating.

"Sorry, about this," she said.

"Sir?" Spock asked, eyes not meeting hers.

Drawing her arms back and then forward, Number One pushed his chest backwards with all her force towards his bunk. And nothing happened. He swayed on his feet but did not topple over.

She sighed, annoyed. "Get in bed now!"

Spock hissed. "Might I remind you, Sir. By regulations, I am only required to follow 'appropriate orders'. And as I have in...in...informed you, I will not be sed --"

This was getting a little bit annoying. "Oh, for God's sake, Spock!" She should really just leave him now and let him collapse on the floor. If he drowned on his own vomit...

Oh, Hell. Taking a step back, Number One angled her body and then rushed forward, hitting him with the side of her shoulder. She felt a momentary flash of triumph when she realized that he was going to topple over...that vanished abruptly when his arms sought her out for balance and drew her down onto the bed on top of him.

The next few seconds were a blur of awkwardly flailing limbs as Number One tried to get up and Spock was...grabbing her hands? Finding her body flat on his, his hip bone pressing hard against her, his head craning forward and their hands entwined, Number One had a brief moment of panic...all that talk of not being seduced...had the gentleman protested too much? Please, no. Please, no. She really didn't need something like this to mar the relationship between her and her science officer. One unrequited crush from a crew member was enough.

"I...I...I..." Spock said.

And suddenly her hands tingled and Number One knew...knew...he had not meant to pull her on top of him. It had been a mistake, a huge mistake. He was deeply, deeply sorry. She didn't need to panic...

He was communicating telepathically. She knew he accidentally read her thoughts...or her feelings...or physiological states...or whatever...when their hands brushed. She didn't know he could transmit.

It was...amazing. Relaxing, she laughed at the sheer wonder of it. It almost made the whole awkward experience worth it. When was she going to telepathically connect with anyone ever again?

Spock's body seemed to loosen a bit with her laughter and she thought maybe she heard a low hum. "Laughter. Nice," he whispered. One corner of his lip twitched up.

...It was a very tender moment that she would cherish forever, but she was lying on top of her science officer and this would not do. "Spock," she said, "I understand. You didn't mean to pull me over. We're good. I'm going to get up now, okay?"

Spock nodded.

Shifting to find some purchase, she suddenly became aware that it wasn't a hip bone pressing against her. She began to giggle. A very naughty thought popped into her mind...

"Sir?" Spock said quizzically, his hands still on hers...a low hum coming from somewhere. She felt only innocent curiosity from his hands...his body, on the other hand...

It was wrong. Very, very, very wrong. But she couldn't hold back.

"Spock's cock!" she exclaimed in a fit of laughter. "I"m a poet and you didn't know it --"

That was precisely the moment she found herself flying through the air.

Hitting the floor with a force that made her teeth shake, Number One burst out laughing again. She was going to hurt tomorrow...oh, Hell, she hurt now...this whole situation was just too funny.

...After a few minutes of hysterical convulsions, it began to occur to her that her science officer was very, very quiet. And that wasn't so funny. Maybe he'd passed out? If he had, she should really roll him over to his side...

Pulling herself painfully up to a sitting position, she peered over the edge of his bunk.

Spock was curled up facing away from her in a little ball...well, not precisely little...and his whole body was shaking. Awwww...She sighed. She knew better than to tease him about that...really she did. Vulcans prided themselves so much on their control, and there she went and drew attention to the fact that he was a wee bit out of control --

Now she'd given the guy a complex.

"Spock? Spock? You okay, buddy?"

No answer.

"You had a normal physiological reaction to chocolate and a female on top of you. I know you weren't trying to seduce me...and...really, you didn't do anything wrong."

Weren't Vulcans monogamous, like forever and ever?

"And you weren't unfaithful to your bond mate, Spock."

His body shuddered. "Should...shouldhave...had more control...half human...weak..."

Now that was...

"Don't insult me, Spock. It wasn't your human side that caused the problem here. If you were human you wouldn't be drunk off your ass on hot cocoa!"

"_Xocolatl."_

Was he correcting _her_? "What the fuck ever, Spock. You know what I mean." She sighed. "Look, you did nothing wrong. You resisted my evil doppelganger's advances --"

Spock growled.

"Right...Chapel is evil. You've been faithful to your bond mate, we're all good...I'll just go now." Groaning, Number One tried to pull herself up further and winced. "Or maybe I'll just lay here for a bit until I catch my breath and my bones knit."

She eased herself back down to the floor.

"I assaulted my superior officer. Sir, if you wish to report me I will --"

Rolling her eyes, Number One shot back a quick lie. "Shut up, Spock, the ship shook."

"I did not notice any instability on the part of the vess...vess...vess...boat," Spock replied.

"Yeah, whatever, throw me a pillow."

A pillow fell from over the edge of the bed and landed on her face. "Thanks, Spock," she said, putting it under her head.

The only response she got was a grunt.

Lying on the floor, she promised herself she'd keep her mouth shut. She'd just rest. In a few minutes she'd get up and go back to her quarters.

But...she was bored...and rather naughty thoughts began creeping into her mind. It would be wrong to take advantage of Spock while he was so vulnerable...on the other hand...she had rescued him from the lounge...and he had thrown her on the floor...and...would it really be so terrible to strike up a conversation? An innocent conversation...really...

"So I bet your bond mate is really, really, smart, huh, Spock?"

From the bed came that humming noise...only it was louder this time. It almost sounded like...purring? Nah.

"She is...she is...she is...brilliant."

"Uh-huh. But I guess all Vulcan girls are, aren't they?" Number One said.

"She is not Vulcan," Spock said.

"Wow, really? I thought you guys were bonded at seven or some--"

She stopped when the sound from the bed became a decidedly unfriendly growl.

An unhappy Vulcan was not a good thing, as she had already seen. "So. This non-Vulcan bond mate of yours...is she human?"

The growling stopped. "Yes."

"So she's brilliant. But is she beautiful?"

The humming noise began again. "Yes. Her features are symmetrical...her figure is healthy."

"But you know, Spock, beauty is such a subjective thing...I mean...I'm not sure I should take your word on this."

Suddenly Spock's eyes were peeking down over the edge of his bunk at her. "Vulcans do not lie," he said.

"That may be so...but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I think I require proof."

Spock blinked. "Yes. That would be quite rational. Veri...verifica...evidence."

His eyes disappeared and Number One heard some rattling in the storage space above his headboard.

Then his eyes were back. "Please move approximately .3 meters further from my bunk."

Number one scooted over. Spock rolled onto the floor next to her with a thump bringing a small holo projector with him.

Lifting an eyebrow, he turned onto his stomach, put the holo in front of them, hit a button and said, "Proof."

**A/N:**  
Uh-oh.

If you liked and were entertained, please leave a review.

Also...just posted another chapter of my Amanda / Sarek fic yesterday "The Native"...dare ya to look! (Even if you don't ship Spock's Daddy and Mum)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Uhura, Spock, Pike or Number One.**

Special thanks to beta Notes from the Classroom

**Chapter 3**

Number One expected someone, well...dour, probably older...

The woman in the holo image was older but not dour at all. She had sparkling brown eyes beneath slightly graying hair; she was flanked on either side by Tillal'a'hans -- the sandstone colored elf-like natives of Altair 25, the last planet they'd docked at. She looked to be in her late fifties, maybe...that would make sense--Vulcans aged very slowly. Spock might be in his sixties -- Number One couldn't remember.

"She's beautiful," Number One said, because it was true. The woman was beautiful with her wide smile and the evidence of laughter etched beneath her eyes. And clearly she'd taken care of her figure throughout the years. She looked willowy and graceful despite her age. "I can see why you'd be attracted to her...and you say she is brilliant, too..."

Spock made a noise that sounded like a small cough. "Sir, that is my mother."

Number One looked at Spock, back to the holo, and back to Spock again. "You got your father's nose."

"Quite." He turned back to the holo. "She visited me on Altair 25 after my bond-mate departed."

"I still think she is beautiful," Number One said.

Spock tilted his head. "Beauty is sub...sub..sub..." He sighed. "I think so, too."

Looking back at Number One, he raised an eyebrow. "And now, may I present to you, my bond-mate, Nyota Uhura."

With a flourish he pressed the advance button at the base of the holo projector. Number One prepared herself for Dour Lady...

...and instead found herself staring into sparkling eyes once again. These eyes belonged to a very young, very lithe, mocha-skinned woman wearing...not much. Just a white bikini that contrasted with her skin tone beautifully.

Number One licked her lips. Well, hello, Nyota Uhura...

"Very nice, Spock."

Staring in rapt attention at the holo, Spock began to purr.

Number One looked to the large hulk of obviously-pleased Vulcan lying next to her. "Spock, you're purring. That is so cute."

"Nyota does...does...does not think itis cute when I purr. She thinks itis sssse---"

"I'm she knows you in ways I never will, Spock," Number One said quickly.

Spock's purr increased in volume. "Yessss...."

Number One smirked. They were both lying on the floor, on their elbows, chins propped up on their hands. This was almost like being back in junior high and looking at pictures of her friends' boyfriends, or would-be boyfriends. Only better.

"Got any more pictures of the beautiful, alluring, brilliant Nyota Uhura?"

Spock pushed the button again then there was a quick holo video looping of Nyota in a bare midriff outfit with more Tillal'a'hans. She was arm in arm with two very lovely Tillal'a'han females similarly garbed doing what appeared to be a belly dance.

Spock moved to advance the holo. Number One carefully caught his wrist...making sure she didn't touch his skin. "No, no...I'd like to watch it."

Turning his head to her, Spock slurred, "Are you interested in the native dances of the Till...tilll...tillallaaaahans?"

"Why, yes, Spock. Yes, I am," she said.

"I find them...slightly...inaa...inappp...inappro..."

"Erotic?" asked Number One, watching the holo vid with interest.

He went a little green. For a moment Number One thought he might throw up, but then she realized he was just blushing.

"Fortu...Fortunately, the dancers are...seg...segregated by gender," he murmured.

"Yes, that is indeed fortunate," said Number One, eyes glued to the vid.

Spock hit the advance button. And Number One found herself looking at Spock and Nyota in casual clothes, noticeably not touching, in a strange forest with enormous, misshapen trees, flanked by several humans.

"Muir Woods has ba...ba...nana slugs," Spock said.

"I'm sure it does, Spock. Got more?"

The holo switched and she was seeing Spock and Nyota literally surrounded by what looks like wild elephants. A baby elephant was reaching up with its trunk to Nyota's nose. Spock was touching Nyota in this picture, standing directly behind her, his lips slightly quirked, hands on her temples. Nyota's face was a picture of pure delight.

"I acshully got an ele...elephant to take this holo for us," Spock said.

Number One looked at him worriedly...he really was obviously very, very drunk. Eh...showing her more holos might help keep him from passing out.

"More, Spock?"

They browsed through ten or so more. There were several that appeared to be taken in an apartment in what looked like San Francisco, judging by the fog outside the windows. Number One idly remembered that Spock had been an instructor before coming aboard the Farragut. He'd actually been the one to discover Captain Kalanel's transmission...

And then they came to another holo. Spock was in his instructor uniform and Nyota was walking next to him...in the Starfleet standard issue cadet uniform...it looked like it was actually an outtake from the nightly news...Uh oh.

Spock hit the advance button fast. He swallowed audibly.

Unfortunately, the next picture was also of the two of them in uniform again. Cadet and instructor...

He hit the advance button again...and it was just Nyota, in Cadet uniform, seated cross-legged, in a lab...

Spock was shaking. Number One grabbed his hand. She'd asked him to show her personal pictures while he was drunk...he'd exposed himself...she'd made him feel vulnerable once again and now she could hurt him if she really wanted to. She had to let him know she never would.

"Hey, I know your relationship began after you left the Academy." It was a lie, and he could probably feel it with his touch telepathy.

Spock said nothing, he just looked at the place where her hand touched his.

"Spock...big guy...look at me." He turned his head in her direction but stared at the floor. He reminded her of a smacked puppy.

"I don't give a damn who you sleep with, Spock. You're a damn fine officer and you've always had my back and the back of your team. Got that?"

Spock met her gaze, his eyes ever so slightly wide. Number One looked back at the holo of Nyota in the very, very, very short regulation skirt that had obviously been designed for women just like her...

"Those are some kickass boots she's got on there," Number One said...not actually thinking so much about the boots, but rather the shadow beneath the skirt. White underwear? How prim and proper...

Number One smacked her lips and swallowed...discreetly.

Spock was letting out a low rumble...she was dimly aware that her hand was still on his.

Since Spock had shared, shouldn't she share too? And really, that 'I will not be seduced' shtick had gotten a little old. Unable to suppress a grin, Number One said, "You know, Spock, Nyota could park those boots by my bed anytime."

The low rumble turned to a roar, and for the second time in the night Number One found herself in mid-air...this time suspended by a hand at the waist of her pants and one fisted on the back of her shirt.

She was laughing too hard to really care as Spock's door whooshed open in front of her.

Thankfully, Spock did not actually throw her into the hallway. Setting her on her feet, he merely pushed her, hard enough so she hit the wall, but thankfully with her body, not with her head. A new wave of hysterics swept through her as his door whooshed shut behind her.

When she opened her eyes, it was into the stern gaze of Captain Christopher Pike.

"What the Hell happened to you, One? What were you doing in Spock's quarters?"

Oh, God...did he really think? Was he jealous?

"Oh, come on!" she snapped. "You know I don't go that way! Someone got Spock drunk and I just helped him get home."

He took a deep breath and relaxed. "What else did you do, One?"

He knew her so well. There were reasons she loved the man. If she did go that way...and he weren't _married_...No use thinking about it.

She snickered. "I may have made a lascivious comment about his bond mate."

"Jesus, One, have I ever told you you have a death wish?"

Wincing, she struggled to stand erect. "Not today, Chris."

"Need a hand?" he asked, ever looking out for her. Well, they looked out for each other really.

"Yeah, that would be really great," she sighed.

Chris swung one of her arms over his shoulder and together they made their way down the hall.

_Fin_

_**A/N:**_

I might be convinced to do an epilogue with Spock drunk dialing Nyota...if I get some good suggestions.

Just posted another chapter of The Native yesterday. Its a sci-fi mystery romance building on slow burn (with angst and of course humor -- because I can't keep the humor out of my fics). If you ship any Spock ship, it is the ship that launched your ship (Sarek and Amanda). Please have a look!

Elephants are in Descartes Error - Close Encounters of Three Kinds - Chapter 45.

Happy Holidays Everyone!


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